


Lost in thought

by Chaneladdict



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4008535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaneladdict/pseuds/Chaneladdict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a Tumblr Ask - Sleepy cuddles - On the run Bucky and a kitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in thought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribeninja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribeninja/gifts).



[You guys should come join me on ](http://chaneladdict.tumblr.com/) [Tumblr! Come say hi! ](http://chaneladdict.tumblr.com/)

  It wasn’t that he was against going back to New York, he wasn’t. In fact it had taken all his willpower once the mess with the robots had hit the international news, to not just up sticks and find a way back a way back to him. But, it wasn’t time for that yet.

It would come, of course it would, it was why he was doing what he was doing, avoiding the soldier, and his flying companion. Steven and Sam as he knew them to be also known as. His Steve and Steve’s Sam – the two men that had tracked him through most of Eastern Europe for the better part of a year before he lost them to Howard Stark’s son’s newest mistake.

Steve made one shitty spy, but the news showed him he was still the best soldier he’d ever known.

At least in what he remembers. But he’s pretty sure he is the best or at least the one most willing to throw – sometimes literally – himself on the line for others.

The floating city, he knew wouldn’t be abandoned by the man in red white and blue no matter what the cost. That wasn’t something the long lost serum gave him either, that was something Bucky recalled even back when the man was a boy, and the boy was fragile and easily broken. So many broken noses, so much blood, so much ‘I’m fine really, Bucky’ as he bled over a sink. It riled him up even now thinking of those men who thought they could harm him in such ways; it riled him up even now that he was still throwing his stupid ass on the line for other people’s wars. He wanted so badly for someone, anyone, maybe even him, to tell the blond that it was okay to stop, to refuse, to let them fight their own battles for once. But, it wasn’t time for that, not yet. Instead he took him time, Hydra base by Hydra base, the long since forgotten ones so deep underground – sometimes literally – that no one even knew they existed anymore. Not on any map, not part of any official record system. Much like him in so many ways.

Unlike him, they were easily destroyed.

He was not. What he was though, was cold, and hungry, and feeling guilty for thieving the money he had to buy what he could to keep himself alive long enough to do what needed to be done.

“Come on, Cat. Come on.” He whispered, why he wasn’t sure, it was only him for miles, him and the ginger and white cat – small but not a kitten, undernourished he guessed, but curious and affectionate despite the fact that he could have killed it and cooked it – he didn’t.

So, it stayed.

A decrepit ex Hydra bomb shelter was his home, had been for several weeks, and Cat had stayed as long as he had been around. “Here. Drink.” He offered, and it purred at him, slinking at his soaked boots. He just shook his head. Still unsure why he gave a shit about the stupid thing, but fed it anyway, bought it milk especially.

Well, stole. Stole it, especially.

Steve would be furious, a stray thought said. And he smiled, to himself in the near darkness.

Yeah, Steve would be furious, another thought crept up, one of a summer day, heat – so unlike where he was in the present, a day of laughter and ‘but I’m allergic and you know it’ argued from beyond a fire escape window, as a younger him petted and cuddled a ginger cat so like the one enjoying their milk below his feet.

“I’ll send it on its way in a minute, but look it, how would you feel a day like that in a fur fuckin’ coat, Stevie, come on. Besides the milk is goin’ sour and you won’t drink it and I sure as hell won’t if you won’t. So, just shh. Look how cute she is, and she loves me.”

 _“You don’t know it’s a she…”_ he argued from inside, far enough away so it didn’t annoy his sinuses. _“And she only stays because you feed it.”_

“Well, call it habit then all kinds of puss-“

_“Do not make that joke, James Barnes, honestly!”_

He remembers smirking and rolling his eyes, petting the cat once more before the memory fizzles out and he’s there again, in the dark room, a makeshift cot in the corner, the stolen sleeping bag he’d been using to stop his bones from freezing on top of it. He checked the time, knowing he had sixteen hours before his next target would be in place, he felt secure enough to rest, and the cat felt the same, having already made itself comfortable on his makeshift bed, he didn’t have the heart to make it leave. It, much like the cat so long ago, was attached to him.

Maybe because he fed it, like the blonde boy had argued with him before, maybe because it saw something in him that it felt safe with, maybe both, or maybe neither.

He just wondered if Steve was still allergic, as he tucked himself up that night, Cat curling her way under his arm, cuddling and purring at his side, keeping him warm. He’d bet the solider was no longer allergic, and for some reason that made him smile, and pet the cat softly.

Maybe he’d like this one.


End file.
